


Vampire Dust

by firefly171



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Arguing, Flirting, Gen, Magic, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 01:16:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefly171/pseuds/firefly171
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felan has a few words for Enthir after she gets back from running an errand for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vampire Dust

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago sometime after I had done the Onmund side quest with my Nord mage character. I just thought it was funny that Enthir had sent her to a Vampire den to retrieve the staff from the “questionable people” he had sold it too. Thus this was created. It takes place between the _Hitting the Books_ and _Good Intentions_ quests

“Vampires? You traded the staff to vampires? Is your brain broken or something?” Felan was aware that her voice rang loudly throughout the Hall of Attainment but at that moment she couldn’t have cared less if Savos Aren himself could hear her over in his own tower. The way she saw it, she had every right to be upset.

Enthir on the other hand, felt rather differently. “Quiet, woman! Do you want the whole college to hear you?”

“Let them hear me,” she yelled, raising her voice instead. “Of all the idiotic –“

“I’m no fool, Felan,” he cut her off. “I know a vampire when I see one and the mage I made the trade with was no vampire.”

“No?” she said, filling the word with her obvious skepticism. “The mage you made the trade with was more likely a thrall.”

“Well how was I supposed to know that?” he argued.

“It would be like you to not know a mindless puppet when you saw one,” she bit back. “And you found out your mistake quick enough. Did a wonderful job in warning me about it too by the way.”

“Yes, well obviously I had every confidence in your abilities.”

“And I’m sure the Arch-Mage would love to hear about your habit of sending apprentices off to run errands for you in vampire dens.”

Enthir didn’t take the threat lightly. Scowling he grabbed her wrist before she could turn to walk away and she could feel the sparks of energy arc across her skin. The fireball was already in the palm of her free hand just waiting for him to try something. She was more than sick of looking at his ugly bosmer face while he continually spat on the younger apprentices, especially Onmund and herself.

“What are the two of you going on about?” Brelyna asked from the doorway. Felan heard her quick intake of breath though once she saw the seriousness of their argument.

Extinguishing her spell she pulled her wrist free from the now distracted Enthir’s hand and took a step back. “Enthir just had something he wanted to give me.” She gave him a feigned innocent but still dangerous smile, “Isn’t that right, Enthir?” She pulled the Grand Staff of Charming from her back. 

“Yes of course,” he answered, his voice hard in return and pulled the amulet from a pocket in his robes and handed it to her. She took it of course but held back the staff when he reached for it.

“Damn you poisonous bitch,” he snarled.

“A potion of cure disease too.”

“You’re the Alchemist in your little group,” he protested. “Make one yourself.”

“I don’t have all the reagents I need,” she said coolly.

“Well I don’t have one for you either,” he snapped.

“I wouldn’t have need of it if it wasn’t for your lousy errand you wretch,” she snapped back. 

She watched his face turned an interesting shade of red as he tried to swallow back what it was he wanted to say. Felan smiled as his plight, at how he so desperately wanted to keep this from getting back to the elder wizards. 

Brelyna stepped into the room. “I have one I can give you if it is urgent.”

Felan bit back the refusal. While it _was_ urgent, she still hated the idea of having to owe an elf. She’d rather take it from Enthir’s stock, though it was obvious that he wasn’t going to part with it easily. She was already certain that he was lying about not having one. She swallowed down her pride and the taste of garlic as she threw the staff at the bosmer. 

“Thank you, Brelyna.” Without another word she turned on her heel and strode out of the room, already not liking having him at her back. She was aware that she had probably made an enemy of him this day. She would make sure she slept with a dagger under her pillow from now on. 

“What was that about?” Brelyna asked, catching up with her on the stairs. 

The Dunmer was friendly enough but she was always nervous around Felan. Felan’s dislike for elves was far from secret. She knew though that when she entered the college that her prejudices would have to be left at the door. The College of Winterhold was probably the only place in Skyrim were she was part of the minority. 

“The ass sent me blindly into a vampire’s den,” she said, not feeling any need to protect him or his secrets. If the younger dunmer wanted to run to the Arch-Mage then let her.

“He what?” Brelyna asked, shocked. “Why would he do that?”

“Maybe he thought it was an easy way to get rid of me.” She smiled at the likelihood of it. 

“It’s a wonder you made it out then,” she said. “I can’t even imagine having to fight against a vampire.”

Felan pushed down the urge to tell her that it had been three vampires as well as their thralls. There was no need to brag, particularly since she survived through mostly luck. She rolled her shoulder, still sore where one of the monsters had gotten her, even after she had healed it. 

They entered Brelyna’s room and she crossed it to rummage through her desk. That’s when Onmund found them.

“Are you alright?” he asked, not bothering to start with a greeting for either her or Brelyna. “I heard that you and Enthir came to blows.”

“Very nearly,” she said and pulled out the amulet the elf had given her. 

“He sent her after vampires,” Brelyna said walking over and placing a small vial into Felan’s other hand. Felan in turn threw her a glare. Onmund didn’t need to know that.

It was of course too late once the words were out of her mouth. “He sent you after what?” he asked.

“Get the cotton out of your ears,” she said, already sick of talking about it. She uncorked the vial and swallowed the bitter tasting contents down, already feeling worlds better knowing that she wasn’t likely to be craving anyone’s blood anytime soon.

“By Yismir, Felan.” The Nordic slip made her smile, even as she threw a quick glance toward the hallway to make sure Ancano wasn’t creeping nearby. 

“As you can see, I made it back in one piece,” she said. “My talents lie in more than just potion making.” She pushed the amulet into his hands and walked out the door, throwing another hastened thank you over her shoulder to Brelyna and placing the now empty vial on a table by the door.

She had almost made it to her room when he caught her by the shoulder and turned her to face him. “Are you alright though? I mean really?”

“I’m fine,” she answered flatly. “Now can I please get some rest? You’re worse than a mother hen the way you’re fussing over me.”

He at least had the sense to look sheepish although his hands had yet to leave her shoulders. “I’m sorry; it’s just that my family amulet isn’t worth half as much as your life is. I hate to think what could have happened to you.”

It was a thought she herself didn’t wish to dwell on. She shook his hands off and began to turn away. “I appreciate your concern but really all I want to do is rest and forget about it.”

“Of course,” he said, “I owe you big for this.”

“Well that’s an understatement,” she laughed.

“So the next time you have to go on a potentially dangerous errand I’m going to go with you.”

That left her speechless but only for a few seconds. Onmund most certainly was not the adventurous sort, not being prone to find himself in quite the same kind of trouble as she was. He was also not the sort that was willing to take any kind of beating. Still he had said it himself, he owed her and even she had to admit that it would be nice having someone to back her up the next time she felt like digging through some cave or ruin.

“You’re likely to regret saying that,” she warned him.

“Oh I have no doubt,” he laughed. “But I’d feel better knowing that you at least had me to watch your back.”

“Just make sure you don’t get to distracted back there.”

She hardly had time to admire his charming blush before she heard Ancano calling her from the entrance. She turned to see the High Elf in his perfectly pressed Thalmor Robes. As he approached she swallowed down the urge to spit on them. 

“The Arch-Mage requires your presence,” he said in his usual drawl tone, as though talking to her was beneath him.

“What for?” she asked, seeing no real need to give the elf any sort of courtesy. She could see him fume at her insolence momentarily but regained his composure quickly.

“A member of the Psijic Order is here,” he said with far more calm than such a statement has any right to be said. “He’s requested you specifically by name.”

With those words he turned to leave, not even bothering to look back to see if she followed. She did of course. She really had no other choice.

***

An hour later she found Onmund in the Arcanaeum, nose buried in a book. Once he saw her she cut off his barrage of questions before he could even get the first one out. “Have you ever heard of the Midden underneath the College?” she asked him.

The look on his face said that he indeed had and that he was now regretting his earlier promise. A promise that she was now determined to hold him too. She felt like she was readying herself to walk straight into the Planes of Oblivion and she’d be damned if she was going to be walking into them by herself.


End file.
